


Reunions

by Ailavyn_Siniyash



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: AMoL spoilers, Gen, Oneshot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 17:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3217331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailavyn_Siniyash/pseuds/Ailavyn_Siniyash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am alive, Mat, alive and whole, in a way I have not been since we left Emond’s Field. Of course,” he grinned, “I’m a Hero of the Horn, too.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunions

**Author's Note:**

> So, over the past two nights, I wrote fic. Accidentally, I swear. I meant to do homework, but this happened instead, and I can’t say I regret it. *u*
> 
> Spoilers for AMoL, likely awful characterisation (Perrin especially is all wrong), what could definitely be considered misuse of the concept of dreamshards, probably typos as this is unbeta’d, and seriously, SPOILERS, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE EPILOGUE.
> 
> (Can also be found on tumblr here: http://ailavyn-siniyash.tumblr.com/post/108884963075)

  
The dice clattered onto the table, and Mat grinned in triumph. A perfect throw. He scooped them back up into his dice cup, and was turning to the man on his left when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. He had a knife in each hand before he could think, spinning, but then it seemed that the weapons melted into nothing, and all of a sudden Perrin was hugging him enthusiastically as Mat spluttered, confused and indignant.

“Hello, Mat,” said Perrin, releasing him. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Light, Perrin! You could flaming well give a man some bloody warning, at least! How did you get here, anyways?” He paused, straightening his coat. “Am I dreaming?”

“Yes,” said another voice. It sounded like Rand. Mat turned his head warily, reaching for another set of knives, to see a tall man, his shape flickering between Rand and the Forsaken who had disappeared from the healing tent shortly after Tarmon Gai’don. “All I had to do was explain how to set up a dreamshard once, and Perrin did it perfectly. He’s as talented as any Dreamer I’ve ever known.” That calm, unperturbed tone was exactly how Rand had sounded during his meeting with Tuon, may she live bloody forever, and, come to think of it, Aviendha, Min, and Elayne  _had_ been acting even odder than usual.

Mat realised his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut. “Bloody ashes, Rand, I was mourning you! The whole flaming world is mourning you! You’re alive? Or,” he paused as a thought came to him, “are you a bloody Hero of the Horn? That would be just like you.”

Rand gave a sheepish smile, his form settling firmly into the red-haired sheepherder Mat had known as long as he could remember. “I am alive, Mat, alive and whole, in a way I have not been since we left Emond’s Field. Of course,” he grinned, “I’m a Hero of the Horn, too.”

“You bloody. Mule-headed. Goat-spawned. Toad.” In spite of his words, Mat stomped over and embraced the other man, only releasing him when he felt Perrin’s amused gaze on his back. “You couldn’t tell me? And Perrin, you knew about this?”

He glared at Perrin, and then nearly jumped in shock. When he hadn’t been paying attention, the crowded tavern had become common room of the Winespring Inn. There was even a basketful of Mistress al’Vere’s sweetbreads on the table he suddenly found himself sitting at. Pushing away memories of Egwene before he could think of them, he stuffed one into his mouth, eagerly, but not before loud grumblings about having already asked for a flaming warning, burn you both, had escaped it.

“Before you start swearing at me, Mat, I didn’t know he was alive until tonight, either. I just found him wandering around the Wolf Dream without a care in the world, and he only smiles mysteriously when you ask him anything.” Perrin gestured at Rand, who was, indeed, smiling a mysterious smile. “Like that.”

“You look like an Aes Sedai,” said Mat, reaching for another sweetbread. Perrin absentmindedly swatted his hand, but Mat grabbed it anyways.

“I  _am_ Aes Sedai, though I suppose I would perhaps not be counted as one any longer, as I can no longer channel,” Rand said. “In any case, I assume you wish to know how I survived?”

“We bloody well do!” said Mat, speaking on top of Perrin, who said, “You can’t channel any more?”

Rand looked faintly amused. “It is simple, though I do not understand the half of it. Elan and I had a...link that is, so far as I can remember, unprecedented, after we crossed Balefire streams in Shadar Logoth. As I lay dying outside Thakan’dar, it was a simple matter to transfer my soul into his body. As a consequence, his soul was pushed into mine, and he died, while I yet live in his body. As for channelling, I overdrew  _saidin_ during my battle with the Dark One and burned myself out.”

Mat stared. “ A _simple matter_ ?” he spluttered. “You traded bodies with a bloody  _Forsaken_ , by the Light! How is that flaming  _simple_ ?”

“It was a simple matter at the time. I do not believe I could ever repeat it, however. The circumstances were unique, and the Pattern was offering me a respite I am not certain I deserved.”

“You’re just... walking around in the body of a Forsaken?” asked Perrin, as if to confirm to himself that that was in fact what he had heard.

“Not just any of the Forsaken, either.” Rand’s lips twisted into a grimace of distaste, but his eyes betrayed some pity. “My soul currently inhabits the body of Elan Morin Tedronai, called Moridin, called Ishmael, called Ba’alzamon.”

After a shocked pause, Perrin reached for a sweetbread himself and said softly, “It seems so long ago that we were running from Trollocs and Myrddraal and he was taunting us in our dreams.”

Mat bit into his own sweetbread violently, remembering the dagger from Shadar Logoth. “We were all bloody idiots,” he contributed.

There was silence for some time, even Mat’s need to talk subsumed by the quiet, companionable presence of his friends. It had been too long since they’d all been together.

Suddenly, Perrin sat up. “Someone’s coming.” He put his hand to his axe.

Rand frowned. “No-one should be able to enter a dreamshard without invitation.”

Perrin looked down. “This feels like the Wolf Dream, not the strangeness of a dreamshard. I must have lost hold of it at some point.”

“No matter.” Rand stood up, and Mat followed,  _ashandarei_ appearing in his hands the moment he thought of it.  _Well, that’s bloody useful_ , he thought. “Let us meet our visitor,” said Rand, starting for the door, but it opened before he had made it two steps.

Nynaeve stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and her face a storm to make Tarmon Gai’don look tame. Her glare swept across the room before finally settling on Rand, for which Mat thanked the Light profusely.

“You are alive,” she said. Rand took a slight step back before catching himself. “And you didn’t tell me.”

“I was going to tell you, Nynaeve. I am not so callous as to just leave my friends forever. I just… needed to be alone. I  am sorry you had to believe I was dead, however.” He swept his hand out to include Mat and Perrin in the statement.

“Oh, I didn’t think you were dead for long, you insufferable woolhead. I bullied the truth out of Aviendha in a day, and told Tam too. What were you thinking, letting him think you dead?”

“You didn’t tell your  _father_ ?” Perrin’s voice was horrified.

Rand looked down. “He was the first person I visited. I just couldn’t stand to be around anyone at all, for a time. Perhaps this is selfishness, but I felt that the world had already demanded enough of me. The Pattern gave me a chance for peace, and I took it.”

Nynaeve’s expression softened some, and she left her post at the doorway, giving Rand a hesitant hug and then seating herself at the table. Mat joined her, noticing that his  _ashandarei_ had disappeared at some point when he wasn’t thinking about it, and the other two took back their places as well.

He thought hard about a cup of wine, just to see whether he could, and sure enough one appeared on the table in front of him. He looked at Nynaeve, seated as she was directly across from him.

“And in case you were wondering  _how_ he survived, Nynaeve,” Mat said sourly, “he did it by switching bodies with the leader of the bloody Forsaken.” The cup of wine had vanished while he was talking, he noted with disappointment.

“I had figured that out, Mat,” said Nynaeve, acidly. “I do have some of my wits about me, unlike some people. Let me take care of the wine,” she added. Suddenly, there was a pitcher in her hand, and and she was pouring what seemed like the finest wine he’d ever tasted into four mugs on the table. Bloody woman just had to outdo him, didn’t she?

“To a new Age,” she intoned, lifting her mug.

“And to old friends,” added Rand. Mat smiled, and answering smiles appeared on the faces of the friends he’d known for as long as he could remember. This new Age would be a good one, he was certain.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so bad. Agh the characterisation is so off, and that ending is awful. How do you ending. Not like that at any rate.
> 
> Still, I'm kinda proud of this, or, well, I'm proud of the fact that I wrote a thing. I don't write enough, and I've been meaning to write something like this for awhile now, so i'm glad I got around to it. Still, it's pretty bad and I should have been doing homework. Oh well, can't change the past.
> 
> Thanks for reading! *u*


End file.
